


Miss Byers

by enbyadams



Series: Milfs, I love them and so does my wife [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Being Walked In On, F/F, Friends to Lovers, MILFs, Making Out, Sort Of, this one is for the sapphics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28527297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyadams/pseuds/enbyadams
Summary: Maia has been working as a local babysitter to help make ends meet. It is through her part-time job she meets Joyce Byers, single mother to two boys and total milf.
Relationships: Joyce Byers/OFC, Joyce Byers/Original Female Character(s), Joyce Byers/Reader
Series: Milfs, I love them and so does my wife [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089713
Kudos: 10





	Miss Byers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silentassassin21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentassassin21/gifts).



> This is the first in a series of one shots about fictional milfs, written as a Christmas gift to my wife.

The young woman resting on the couch jolts awake at the sound of a key in a lock. Putting down the book she had dozed off reading, she makes her way to the entrance of the home.

“Maia! You startled me,” Joyce Beyers slaps a hand against her chest, releasing a deep sigh.

“God, I’m sorry!” exclaims Maia apologetically, wincing as she does. “I just wanted to –” She stops midsentence, unsure how to continue. She had wanted to see Joyce, to ask how her night was but she didn’t want to appear overeager to the older woman. “The boys are in bed, sound asleep. Will had that same nightmare again about the disintegrating man but he passed right out once I tucked him back in.”

Joyce shuts the door behind herself as she enters the house. “My poor boy, I’m hoping he grows out of the nightmares,” her expression becomes one of worry and Maia realises she should probably change the subject before she spirals.

“How was your night?”

“Don’t ask,” Joyce groans as she kicks off her shoes.

“What exactly did you get up to?” Maia asks with a raised brow, trailing behind Joyce as she heads for the living room. She places her handbag on the coffee table, across from where Maia had placed her book.

“It’s silly,” a blush spreads across the older woman’s cheeks. She ruffles her hair until the unusually neat waves resembled her usual style. It’s then Maia notices the makeup on Joyce’s face; dark liner smudge around her waterline and a soft nude painted on her lips. Her leather jacket and relatively unfaded jeans also differ from Joyce’s usual attire.

“Did you go on a date?” Maia asked hesitantly, trying hide to keep her brow from furrowing. A sinking feeling began to take form in her stomach, competing with a feeling she had been trying hard to bury since she had begun babysitting for the mother of two a month ago.

“If you can even call it that,” the woman replied exasperatedly as she shrugs of her jacket, tossing it onto the lazy boy beside the couch. “He took me to a gas station for coffee. We stayed there for three hours. Who does that?!” Joyce flops defeatedly onto the old, flannel couch.

“He?” Maia swallows thickly, her control over her expression slipping. Maia lowers herself slowly onto the couch, besides the woman. Joyce must misinterpret her furrowed brows as disbelief because she lets out another groan.

“I know, I know. I’m a 43-year-old single mother of two boys, struggling to make ends meet by working 47 hours a week at a grocery store. Who would want to take on all that?”

“You’re wanted, Joyce,” the words are whispered quietly, the sound barely audible to her own ears as her heart stutters. Maia’s gaze shifts to the coffee table.

The older woman doesn’t say anything. Maia feels her shift next to her and prepares herself for rejection, clutching the edge of the couch. Joyce’s hand slides to rest beside hers, the skin grazing ever so slightly. Maia almost flinches at the shock of it. Slowly, she presses back against the hand. Joyce’s fingers slowly stretch across, pinkie linking tentatively over hers. Maia releases her grip on the couch, turning her hand over into Joyce’s. Her gaze slides up from their joined hands to Joyce’s eyes. They’re filled with uncertainty and anxiety and a million questions, but they’re also filled with a heat that has Maia’s thighs clenching together.

“Do you –” Joyce wets her lips, her gaze slipping to Maia’s mouth. “Do you want me, Maia?” She leans closer to the younger woman, breath fanning her face.

“Yes,” all her pining pushing the word out in a single, aching breath.

The two women collide in an impassioned embrace. Soft lips slide together, tongues tasting the one another. Joyce’s hands hold Maia’s face as if she can pull her closer whilst she drinks in her mouth. Maia whines into her as her teeth clasp softly on her bottom lip. Her hands come to rest on top of Joyce’s as she leans back slowly, making sure the older woman knows to follow. Her back comes to rest against the cushions with Joyce hovering over her. Her hands slip from under Maia’s, clasping them in her grip before pinning them down on either side of Maia’s head. Joyce bares her weight down on the young woman, causing their breasts to press together.

Even through the fabric of their shirts, Maia can feel the woman’s aroused nipples. She moans softly as she begins to squirm. Her breath hitches as the crotch of her jeans grazes against Joyce’s thigh. “Please,” Maia whimpers.

“Take off your shirt,” Joyce moans, quickly releasing her hands as she removes her own.

Maia follows, hurriedly ripping of the material over her head, leaving her breasts covered only by a pink bra. Almost in sync, they toss the discarded clothing over the back of the couch. Colliding back together as soon as the items are out of the way.

Joyce grips the back of her head, fingers entangling in the locks of her hair. She separates their mouths, causing Maia to whimper. Her lips begin to press kisses across her cheek, down to nip her jawline.

Another whimper escapes Maia as she bares herself further into the touch of the older woman. Joyce’s tongue darts out to taste the skin of her neck and Maia parts her legs in response, trying to shift her lower half closer in the hold of the woman. Sensing what she needs, Joyce slips her leg between Maia’s thighs as she continues to go ham on her neck. Through the rough fabric of her pants, Maia grinds her clit into the muscle of the thigh below her. The friction worsens the wetness that has seeped through the flimsy material of Maia’s underwear, causing a small damp patch to begin to form of the denim of Joyce’s jeans.

“What else do you want, baby?” Joyce whispers in a husky voice. The hand not tangled in Maia’s hand coming to rest on the small of her back.

“T-touch me,” Maia pants as she continues to grind against her. “Everywhere.”

Joyce’s hand slides up to the back of her bra, fingers fidgeting with the hooks.

“Mom?!” a startled voice exclaims.

The two women quickly jump apart. They turn towards the staircase to see Will standing there, his expression one of bewilderment. The boy rubs his eyes as if he isn’t sure he’s awake.

“Will! Sweetie!” Joyce exclaims as she hurriedly dives towards her jacket on the lazy boy. Maia rolls off the couch in a pointless attempt at hiding herself. She crawls desperately behind the couch to recover her shirt. She hears the zip of Joyce’s jacket and she throws her shirt over her head.

“Did you have another bad dream?” Joyce asks in a winded voice. She walks up the staircase towards the boy.

“Wha-what were you and Maia doing?” he asks as he looks up at his dishevelled mother.

“We were, um, we were just –”

“Wrestling!” Maia squawks unconvincingly, popping out from behind the couch.

Joyce looks to her before focusing back on Will.

“Yep. Wrestling.”

The child looks entirely unconvinced.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” she sighs, turning him to face back the way he came. As they head up the staircase, Joyce looks at Maia. She sends her a soft, reassuring smile before moving out of sight. Maia flops back onto the couch, out of breath from the whole ordeal. Slowly, she begins to chuckle softly. She stops as she hears the stairs creak and glances up to see Joyce. When their eyes meet the pair begin to laugh quietly.

Joyce re-joins Maia on couch, her hand finding hers as she moves to nuzzle her neck. “How are we going to explain that to him when he’s older?” she groans into her.

A grin begins to break out as Maia realises the implication of Joyce’s words. She squeezes her hand. “His mom’s a babe and his babysitter was unable to resist her charms.”

Joyce lifts her head and nudges Maia playfully with her shoulder. Grinning, she shakes her head and presses a kiss against her mouth.


End file.
